


Unraveling

by Emilia



Series: The Wrath of Sithis [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lies, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Secrets, Sexual Humor, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-07 02:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4246446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilia/pseuds/Emilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Silencer is faced to head down a dark road when she meets someone who brings out the normal, happy girl in her. But what is she to do when the nice guy turns out to be the villain and the mystery man is the good guy all along?</p><p> </p><p>Update: Most fics will be put on hold as I've began a personal project in original writing. If the chance happens that I do return to any of my fan fiction, expect a lot of editing and improvement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Carciniea," Lucien Lachance greeted his protege. His eyes finally left his book he had been previously reading until he heard her step into the heart of his lair.

Carciniea, who was looking worn and unkempt, gave a bow as she returned the greeting, "Sir." She resumed her slightly slouched posture, continuing to approach the Speaker, "Your guards seemed to be a bit nicer towards as opposed to my last visit."

"Did they now?" He humored her small talk. The lighthearted sound in his words contrasted to his lackadaisical expression.

Her hands began to fumble, "Well, no..." She tried to think of something to add that could catch his full attention, but to no avail. He shut his book before she had the chance to finish, finally looking up at her. An impressed smirk curled upon his lips, making her stomach twist.

"You look as if you nearly escaped death. I take it all went well?" He inquired, sitting the book on his lap as he leaned back against his desk.

Her eyes lowered to the floor, answering him with a simple nod. "Valtieri was the most difficult among them," she commented, "I had to delay the trip here to make sure I hadn't contracted-"

"Porphyric Hemophilia," Lucien finished.

"Yes, sir." Carciniea obediently replied, her tone had became just as void of emotion as Lucien's. It was something she wasn't sure to be proud of.

He walked behind his desk, parchment and quill ready. He sat himself down and began to jot down a letter. "The Black Hand will be pleased to hear of your progress, Silencer," he told her.

"Wonderful," she rolled her eyes, "Where would I be in life if it were not for the unconditional love and sacrifice of the Black Hand? I should attend the next charity meeting of kids' candy being stolen..."

Lucien looked up at her, more or less providing the opportunity to take back what she said. She would've taken it if it were not for coming up for any convincing cover-up. "I hope you do realize the stakes of the Purification."

"I do," she meekly replied. Lucien didn't break the tense eye contact until she had corrected herself by adding to her answer, "Sir."

"And that if you were confronted by a fellow Speaker of the Black Hand it would be best to be as courteous as possible?"

"Apologies, sir," she gave him another bow, this one deeper.

"I'm trying to keep an eye out for you, Silencer. I had my reasons why I chose you to carry out the Purification- I would like you to prove I have sound judgement," he resumed his writing without another word.

Carciniea's mouth opened, yet no sounds came out. There were many things she wanted to tell him; some ranged from "I love you," to "you ruined my life!" In the end, she rationalized the two statements as being products of a lonely soul and a grieving heart. It was a sick mixture that made her weary and nauseous. In the end, she found something not so radical to talk about. "Any word on the Traitor's identity?" She inquired.

Lucien scribbled down his last thoughts onto the paper as he sighed. He dropped the quill as he finished, bowing his head and running his fingers through his dark hair. "Not in the damnedest, I'm afraid," he answered. His tone was weak and tired, very out of character for him.

For just a small second, she thought she saw a glimmer of humanity in the man named Lucien Lachance. He looked sad, upset even. No doubt the Purification left some on Lucien as well. Carciniea was emphatic, but more or less intrigued.

"Luc- Sir," she cleared her voice, "I'm sorry-" Lucien raised a hand before she had the chance to continue. "Their sacrifice was just. Hopefully the Traitor had fallen with them."

"Sir, what if none of them were the Traitor?"

Lucien looked grim. "Then they'll have to forgive us in the Void."

Carciniea stepped closer, clutching her heart and pent up feelings. She had an idea that- if it goes accordingly- would take the two on a new level. "Sir, may I ask a favor?"

Lucien looked up to her once more, signaling her to continue. "I was curious if I could... Well, seeing as Cheydinhal is having another downpour and I'm sure you would understand that the last thing I want to do is go back into the sanctuary so..."

"I have a feeling I know where this is going," Lucien said to himself under his breath. His Silencer mustered up her courage, "I wanted to know if it was possible if I could stay here tonight. With you. Maybe even help around."

She embraced any sort of ridicule or sarcastic replies, only to find he had none. He smiled at her, almost smirking but the lighting made it hard for her to tell; he leaned back, "I'm afraid not."

"Oh," she blinked several times, slowly nodding, "Okay. That's fine. I was having what was probably the worst day of my life, but thank you anyway sir."

She turned to the door, beginning to take her leave. "Carciniea," Lucien called for her, "Your first contract from me begins tomorrow. You'll find a dead drop inside a hollowed out moss covered rock. I look forward to working together."

"You too, sir," she flashed him a fake smile onto her face. She could feel her heart grow heavy, her chest beginning to heave. Just before she left his chamber, she turned back to him, "If I may ask, sir, what is your reason? For saying no?"

"It just wouldn't be ethical," he simply replied, once again no longer gracing her with his gaze. He went back to jotting down thoughts onto the parchment, as if nothing had transpired. Then again, to Lucien nothing truly had transpired.

The second she left and she was sure he was out of earshot, she muttered aloud and to herself, "Ethical my ass."


	2. Chapter 2

Carciniea wasn't lying when she mentioned her home was heading into another downpour; droplets of rain began to sprinkle through the city of Cheydinhal, perfecting the melancholic atmosphere for the night. By then, any remaining citizens were on their way home or taking shelter at the quiet inn.

Now that the Purification was over, she saw the house as everyone else did: Eerie, silent, dead. It was this new perspective that gave her reasons to leave it be. She didn't intend to stay long, just enough time to change into a normal, everyday attire as she planned to spend her night in an inn.

Her hair was soaked as she stepped into the Newlands Lodge, a Dunmer bar not too far from home. She approached the innkeeper, stopping halfway as she noticed a black blur in her peripheral view. She looked in the blur's direction, a grin spreading from ear to ear as she approached it instead.

"Mathieu," she addressed him, seating herself opposite of him and leaning back.

He looked up at her, his expression already setting into agitation. "Are we really on first name terms, now?" He sighed, pushing his plate and book away from him.

"You say that like you're not happy to see me," she teased him, giggling.

"I'm not."

Despite his annoyed expression, she was happy to see him. "I wonder if this is how you greet all your friends," she thought aloud, more or less attempting to get a rise out of him.

"Only if it's you or anyone else who can't take a hint." He rolled his eyes, relieving himself of his hood. His curly, sandy brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. Some of the smaller curls poked out among the others. This was no doubt due to the damp, humid air from the evening. His face didn't seem as gaunt or ghostly now that it was fully exposed to the light; Carciniea was taken back to see how handsome he was.

"Is there a problem?" He spoke up, arching a brow.

She jumped at this, feeling her cheeks burn from her obvious staring. "No, you- I just realized something," she let out a fake laugh, slapping the corner of the table, "You're here waiting for your lady to show up and here I am-"

"Don't try to flatter me," he groaned, "No woman in her right mind would bother herself with me."

"Oh," she slowly nodded, trying to hide a prideful smirk. "So, what? Are you here because you have this weird obsession with dark elf ladies?" She asked.

"More so that I mind my own business," he deadpanned.

"I take that as a no," she muttered to herself. _  
_

"So I've heard you've been promoted to Silencer," he brought up, imitating a joyous tone with something much more sarcastic, "How excited you must be to work so close to your dream man."

Carciniea tried hard to brush this off, uncomfortably laughing. "No, not really-"

"Is that so?" Mathieu actually seemed surprised to hear this. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Is my crush really _that_  obvious?"

"Painfully so," he sighed. "It's almost like a contagious virus. Actually, that's exactly what it is."

His words came across harsh on the topic of Lucien, harsh enough that made Carciniea wince. She was tempted to ask him the reason for the rude words but she simply wrote it off as rivalry.

"Heard you were to purify the sanctuary," he pressed forward, simmering back down to a casual ring.

"Oh, right," she faintly chuckled, gazing out a nearby window as her heart sank deep into her stomach.

"Did it not go well?"

"No, it did," she shook her head, "And... I think that's what went wrong to me. When Lucien had assigned me the task, I saw him in a different light. He gave me my friends and he took them away." Gears began turning inside her head, her mind forgetting momentarily about the conversation. "What never sat right with me was how... Unsympathetic he seemed. I'm sure he felt something, even now, but... He just seemed emotionless."

Mathieu listened to as she went on, patiently nodding whenever she finished a thought. For the first time he didn't seem so cold or grim, in a strange twist his presence was comforting.

The Silencer halfway finished her last thought when she realized this, stopping herself, "I'm sorry, I'm just rambling. I shouldn't even be-"

He waved a hand, "No apologies needed. The Brotherhood is falling apart and everyone is affected in some way or form."

"How has it affected you?" She asked, folding her arms on the table as she leaned in forward.

He scratched behind his head, not meeting her eye. "Lost a love of mine. The situation we are faced with had stressed out our relationship until she left me one night. Not long after did the Traitor take her."

"I'm so sorry," Carciniea consoled him, her hands gripping his own without much thought. His eyes flickered down; she snatched her hand back before the atmosphere tensed.

He said nothing in response, exhaling through his mouth as he shifted around in his chair. The tension had increased anyway, and the two were both aware of it.

"For the record," she broke the silence, smirking, "We just bonded."

_"We did not-"_

"Yes we did!" She laughed,"I'm growing on you and you know it!"

Her laughing rang out among the quiet chatter of residents. It faded out slowly, deteriorating the conversation into another, more comfortable, silence.

Mathieu himself had been staring at her with his dark eyes, their gazes clashing. "You're wet," he pointed out.

"I am," she confirmed absent-mindedly, nodding until she realized he was referring to something else entirely.

"I was talking about your hair," He raised his voice. The blood rushed to his face suddenly.

"I knew that!" She protested.

Mathieu quickly wrote off this argument with a harsh and audible sigh. "I'm going to retire now, if you don't mind," he stood, collecting his book. "You're welcome to come join me before I change my mind." After a few steps he turned back to her, "Well?"

Carciniea, half in disbelief, turned to face him. "Sorry, I just didn't think I'd get this far," she confessed, scratching her head.

He rolled his eyes, turning back to leave. The youth pounced out of her seat and after him, following him up the steps into one of the bedrooms.

\-------------

Carciniea rolled off of her Speaker, their hands were still intertwined together and sat above their heads. The two of them were trying to catch their breath as they sat in silence.

"So," she was the first to speak, letting out a hoarse laugh, "What were you saying? About how we didn't bond at all?"

She was surprised to hear laugh- It was more of a low, dry chuckle but a laugh all the same. Her thumb stroked his index finger, smiling to herself.

"What can I say? You're like a disease," he teased.

"You make it sound worse than it is," she laughed. She slowly crept onto him, nipping at his lower lip. Her head tucked nicely under his chin as she rested herself on his chest. It was a different experience, along with a different partner than what she was expecting. She was perfectly content in laying there and sleeping through the morning, until she remembered her duties to Lucien. She let out a string of curses.

"Something the matter?" Mathieu asked.

"I just remembered an assignment Lucien gave me for tomorrow. Now I have to bust my ass to find some dead drop!"

"Did he at least tell you where?"

"Some sort of moss covered rock, as if that isn't the most vague instructions I've ever heard," she groaned, burying her face in his chest.

He stroked her damp hair, hushing her.


	3. Chapter 3

The stormy clouds had dispersed and disappeared into the night, just a few hours before dawn had broke out. No doubt farmers were waking up to begin their hard labor, just as the newly praised Silencer was.

She was halfway out the window; she sat on the sill with one leg out as she kissed her new lover farewell. Her forehead rested against his, her lover asking: "Have any idea where you're supposed to start looking?"

"I'm going to try Hero Hill. The name is dramatic and we all know how Lucien is about dramaticism," she laughed, giving him another peck.

"Just say the word and I'll carry you back to bed myself," he smirked. She nearly said to Oblivion with her duties, but gave him a final kiss.

"Don't forget about me!" she told him as she climbed through the window, "I'm hoping to be back home tonight!"

As she slid off the roof and fell to her feet (a moment where she praised her athleticism), she headed to the nearest gate where her trusted steed lied just outside.

Shadowmere, her aforementioned steed, was not as happy to see her as she was expecting. She glared at her, as if asking where she was while the mare was soaked in the rain.

"Hey, don't give me that look," Carciniea said as she climbed onto Shadowmere's saddle, "We have work to do."

Just as she had suspected, the dead drop was in fact in Hero's Hill. What she did not suspect, however, was the search to actually _find_ the dead drop. She was sure to leave no stone unturned, until she managed to stumble by it.

The letter contained information on her target: a necromancer named Celedaen was in the progress of transforming himself into a lich. After she had finished reading the note and safely stored it back in the hollowed rock, she groaned, "Who comes up with this stuff?"

After venturing into Leafrot cave and nearly being hacked to death by the undead and a soon to-be lich, Carciniea was able to leave in one piece. The night had returned much too soon for her taste; she spent much of the day traveling south and doing her best to survive the adventure Lucien had assigned her with.

The lich she faced, Celedaen, was much more powerful than she had initially assumed: True, in the end she was the one to walk out of the cave; but Celedaen was sure to leave her with a few wounds of his own doing.

Most of her wounds were nothing to worry for, but Celedaen had managed to leave a burn on her hand. Across the back of her hand, a huge amount of the skin had been twisted and paled in color.

The stinging was relentless as she hurried her travels back to Cheydinhal. She hoped Mathieu was still waiting for her; throughout the day she scolded herself. _I could've stayed in bed_ , she would think to herself, _I should've stayed in bed._

As they approached Cheydinhal, Carciniea was half tempted to demand compensation from Lucien for her latest contract (as well as to brag with her most recent accomplishment with Bellamont). She let the opportunity pass, due to the city now in sight.

Forgetting which side of the city both the sanctuary and the Lodge were on, Carciniea had entered on the western side of the city. She did her best to ignore the stinging pain in her burnt hand as it feebly clung to her chest, hurrying through the streets until she came to the small bridge that was set up above the shallow river that ran through the city. She could see the outline of a figure leaning over the wooden rails; she could feel her heart swell up with excitement.

She smoothed down into a walk, stopping herself right beside the dark robed figure and turned toward the river. "Waiting on someone, stranger?" She giggled at her words, leaning against Mathieu.

"I was just about to leave," he told her, a small smile drawn on his lips. It was a nice change from his usual scowl. He was quick to take notice of her burnt hand, gently enveloping it into his. "What happened?"

"Oh, nothing. A necromancer tried to burn my hand off while we were playing tug-of-war with an hourglass," She turned to him, her tone tried to convey a humorous image, but he was much too worried. "I'm actually not that good at sneaking," she confessed.

"Should be more careful," he told her. A bright magical light engulfed her hand as the scorching pain quickly settled. The light didn't linger any longer than a second, leaving her hand just as it was before the dead drop.

"What's it like doing magic?" She asked him.

Mathieu seemed taken back by her question. "What do you mean? I thought you were a Breton too?"

"I am," she nodded, "I'm just, ah... A bit defective. On my dad's side of the family, they have this recessive gene that prevents some like me from using magic. I'm the only one out of my siblings who can't use magic! I'm like a paradox, y'know? Like-"

"Like a Silencer who also talks excessively," Mathieu poked at her, laughing as he caught a glimpse of her shocked face. She lightly smacked his arm before resting her head against it.

She could feel him leave a light kiss on the side of her head. Her stomach began to feel warm and fuzzy again, a grin spreading across her face as she chuckled, "If I knew you were going to start being this nice, I think I would've tried to have sex with you a while ago."

"And I think I would've let you," he whispered in her ear, kissing along the back of her ear as she giggled at this.

She took his arm and wrapped it around her waist, "Then how about we test that out now?"

She tugged at his robe, pulling him closer to her as she kissed him. His lips were warm and wet, her knees growing weak from the contact. This kiss was much different than the others they had shared; this one was deep, memorable. Even after their lips parted briefly, it left a deep impression on her.

She had been waiting on this all day, only to be interrupted by him confessing, "I can't." The mood, at least for her, had been ruined. She threw her head back, releasing a loud, over dramatic cry as she fell back against him.

"Now, now. Was that hardly necessary?"

"You'd do the same if you were the reason you're not getting laid tonight," she mumbled into his chest.

"For the most part, I am. I was supposed to leave earlier but I wanted to see you one last time before I went off," he looked down past his nose at her, chuckling at her pouting face, "Oh, don't give me that. I gave you a choice this morning."

"I know, I know," she huffed, wedging herself out between the wooden rails. "I suppose the least I could do is walk you."

Mathieu smiled at this, grabbing her hand as they walked to the eastern gate of Cheydinhal. Carciniea began telling him about her recent contract, about the hassle of the traveling while exaggerating herself at the same time. He found this humorous, at some points chuckling when her voice got so high it cracked from the intensity and other points adding in slick comments that got a rise out of her. It was a moment where they complimented each other; her eccentric, talkative personality brought out the smile in him while he managed to keep her just as calm as he in other moments.

As they stepped outside the walls, he took her once injured hand and held it up to her lips. He gave it a small kiss, "Try not to end up burnt to a crisp, now."

"Only if it'll give me an excuse to see you," she laughed, moving her hand to kiss him.

He smirked and without another word, he began his journey to wherever he had to go. Seeing him leave made her feel empty, reminding her that he was one of the last people who paid her any mind. Once again she was tempted to visit Lucien. Perhaps he needed someone to lean on as well? No- He was too strong of a person. Just how she wanted to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, not too long ago I was going through another play through when I realized people refer to Shadowmere as "her" or "she". 
> 
> This whole time, throughout the series, I've written Shadowmere as a he. 
> 
> Whoops.


	4. Chapter 4

For the night, the Silencer spent the night sleeping in the graveyard of Cheydinhal. It was something she used to do in her short days before the Brotherhood; stare at the stars, soft dirt beneath her as opposed to another night in an Inn or worse- the sanctuary.

The next day she sped off to Chorrol as she was instructed. Lucien's next directions pointed to a family: the Draconis family. The whole family. She was to head to the Applewatch farm and speak with the matron, Perrenia.

Carciniea scoffed at this, tucking the dead drop away in the sack. "Piece of cake," she told herself.

What she did not count on, was the cold weather. Shadowmere didn't mind it so much, but she was one who was never very resilient to the cold.

She was never particularly fond of Bruma and its surrounding region. The cold nip in the air, the feeling of trudging through thick blankets of snow, the late night blizzards. It was hardly a place to live.

The feeling in her hands had nearly completely drained as she knocked against the door to Applewatch. Her hands rubbed against each other to contract some heat. _What am I doing? I'm here to kill her and her family, not ask for a warm mug of ale!_

With one numb hand, she opened the door and peaked her head inside. An elderly woman, no doubt Perennia Draconis, sat by a warm fire crocheting. She was distracted and Carciniea saw her chance. Sliding through the door was simple, until it closed with a noticeable ring.

Perennia looked up from her project, her eyes wide with fear momentarily. "Oh! Hello, there," she set her hands on her lap, resting upon her knitting project.

"Apologies, mum," she gave the old woman a smile, comforting her with the term of endearment. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"Not your fault, dear. Nerves get rattled up rather quickly nowaday. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Actually, I'm here for your children," she told her in an oddly reassuring voice.

Perennia looked unsettled at the response, furrowed her brow as she quizzically cocked her head to the side. "My children? Why- Oh! Oh, dear, excuse an old woman. You're here to pick up my gift list!"

Carciniea nodded quickly at this with a half convincingly, "Yes, yes I am."

The elderly mother set her crocheting project on the floor as she slowly climbed to her feet. She walked over to pick up a sealed letter that was previously sitting on top of a cabinet.

"Using your service is likely the smartest thing I've ever done. My children, you see, are spread across Cyrodiil and it tends to get hard to shop for them all!" She beamed, hanging the "courier" the list. "Everything you need to know is on there: Names, locations, suggestions for gifts, that sort."

"I'll get it all done, quick as I can," Carciniea smiled back, heading back out the door as she unraveled the list. She skimmed through and bid the lonely mothe farewell. She closed the door behind her with the use of her waist, leaning against. "Oh, Lucien, what do you have me doing now?"

She rolled up the parchment and stuffed it into one of her pockets. She climbed onto Shadowmere, struggling to get a firm grasp due to her short legs.

For the next few days, they've covered much of the Cyrodilic soil across the map.

Matthias was the first to go as he was the first listed; after briefly reading about his upbringing and having the poor misfortune to meet him, she did away with him in an alley. After rudely greeting her and ridiculing her among his peers, she had enough when he belittled her esteem by mocking how flat her chest was. She made sure his death was not swift.

The next on her was Andreas and Caelia. Caelia was the first out of the two to go, though it was hard getting the job done. She had reminded the Silencer of her oldest brother that she nearly hugged the guard before proceeding to place the knife in her back.

But even a trip to be more exciting than pretending to spend a night at the Drunken Dragon Inn. She did have some intention of staying the night until she saw just how barren it was. She wondered how long it had been since someone other than Andreas had even breathed in there. In the end, his death was the excitement she had for the night.

At last came Sibylla, the estranged daughter who was more than likely dropped on her head more times than her mother is proud to say. It was an age old battle: assassin against neanderthal, dagger against wooden club. Even though Carciniea left the cave with a few bruises, at least she was the one to leave the cave. Sibylla put up a fight, but was rendered vulnerable when she was almost completely exposed. 

Even Perennia didn't put much of a fight when she returned to the doorstep of Applewatch; the woman knew how to throw a good hit, but Carciniea had the advantage of youth and weaponry on her side. After coming clean that she was no courier and the only gift any of her children received were death, Perennia did manage to knock the wind out of her momentarily.

"That's it," Carciniea huffed to herself once the pain had died down enough to allow her to stand up, "You just lost your living privilege too!"

After two swift slashes the woman fell down without much of a fight, shame to say. Carciniea, instead of taking her leave as per usual, backed up against a wall and slid down until her butt was on the floor.

"Never liked harming anyone, but you did sock me pretty hard," she attempted an apology, "I did what I was told to do- Same as anyone else."

What was the body of Perennia Draconis remained quiet and unmoving, yet a whole conversation began to unfold inside of Carciniea's head.

"Like I really know what lead to this life! Maybe it's because my mother never hugged me enough, or that I never knew my father," she let out a sound of disgust. She cared for neither of those things and hardly found them to be the source of her problems. "Or maybe it's because I met a guy who gave me the opportunity to change my life and stop living on the streets," her shoulders slumped at this, though her tone was never less firm.

Lucien had been a topic that had been residing in her head since her and Mathieu had last spoken in Cheydinhal. It wasn't anything that he did nor said, but all she could think was _What would Lucien say?_

It wasn't easy to ignore this; if anything she had let it swell within her throughout her trips taking out each member of the Draconis family. Her latest issue with Lucien wasn't that she needed him to make passionate love to her and pledge his heart to her. She craved his attention and she felt that had she pushed herself in Fort Farragut, they could have connected.

That wasn't to assume she wasn't happy with Mathieu, nor did she regret their night together. Lucien was the door that had closed on her, but he was the window that was wide open for her.

To put her feelings shortly: She missed Lucien. When she joined the Brotherhood, it was with hopes to spend time with and get to know him. Throughout the year she had spent in Cheydinhal, Lucien's visits were rare and short. Now to be his Silencer? She was hoping to at least receive his contracts from him _in person._

"I miss him. I really do," she said to herself, her eyes trailing slowly back to the body. A small dark, crimson red pool was beginning to encase it.

Her head poked up, a smile slowly beginning to break out. "You're right!" She exclaimed to no one, hopping onto her feet with a new spring in her step. "I have to see him- As soon as I can, no matter what!"

Carciniea bounced her way back to Shadowmere, stroking her mare, "Looks like we're headed for home, girl."

\-------------

It took them nearly all day, even just a little past sunset, but they had made it back to Fort Farragut. The denizens there hadn't become any nicer since her last visit, but they did fall down just the same.

Each step towards the inner sanctum where Lucien inhabited became quicker, lighter. She was practically prancing through the fort until she saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Oh, Lucien!" She called out to him, pulling the lever that lifted the barrier between them.

Realization kicked in quick when she soon saw she was all alone. Her smile quickly faded, leaving behind a quivering lower lip. She felt her opportunity had flew out of the window before she ever arrived.

With slumped shoulders, she dragged herself over to his bed. "Dammit, Luce," she huffed, falling back onto his bed.

Lucien's bed was soft and comfortable, unlike many beds she had previously slept in. His scent was faintly embedded within the blankets and pillow; her stomach began to tingle as she imagined her Speaker sleeping peacefully.

Before she ever realized it, she had fallen into a quick, light sleep. It was the first bit of peace of mind she had in just a little over a week. Somewhere in short rest she saw flashes of cheese and could make out seeing her old friend Ocheeva a couple times. Her mind wrenched her from the dream before she had a chance to make out anything specific, her eyes opening slowly.

She could see Lucien sitting back in his chair, a pewter bowl sitting on his lap as his shoes rested on his desk. He had began slicing an apple with a small dagger, the slices being dropped into the bowl. He had taken notice of her. "Ah, good. You're awake," Lucien chimed, though his expression was indifferent.

Carciniea swore in her head, rubbing her face as she began to apologize profusely, "Sir, I am so sorry- I-I came here to-"

Lucien raised a hand slowly, silencing his apprentice slowly but surely. A blanket slowly fell off of her shoulder, one she did not place on her own. Her face turned red as she slowly realized it was likely Lucien, looking after her.

"You were cold," He explained without a preceding question, "I was contemplating if I should wake you up, but then I decided it was better to let you wake on your own."

"Thank you," she slowly said to him, before adding, "Sir."

He didn't respond to her, his eyes were locked on the slices of apple that had fallen into the bowl. She laid her head down on the pillow, when a question popped into her head: "I was looking for you earlier, sir. Where were you?"

"I had just finished placing your next dead drop. I'm surprised you're not already there, considering the company."

She tilted her head quizzically, "Sir?"

The last bit of the apple had fallen into the carved pewter, Lucien arched a brow as he handed her the filled bowl, "As I've stated many times my dear, I do not spread rumors. I create them. And when the occasion arises, I listen to some. Some that involve you and another member, I hear."

Carciniea, who had already began to eat on the fresh slices, choked at this news. Her face turned a deep shade of red as she leaned over and let out a nasty cough. Lucien actually chortled at this reaction.

"Sir, who told you about that? There's no way-"

"My dear Silencer, the Brotherhood is filled with eyes and ears. Haven't you learned anything from the time you've spent here?" he shook his head, sighing.

"I'm 'fraid not, sir." Her gaze fell back to the bowl. There were a few slices left, just sitting in the pewter. Her head poked up as she remembered what she was here for. "Sir, there was something bursting  to talk to you about."

His head nodded, signaling her to proceed.

She took a deep breath, feeling her bravery quickly beginning to fade. Her chest felt like it was beginning to explode from the anxiety building. It was the closest thing she could say to confessing her feelings.

"I..." she began, her chest rising as it came close to bursting. At the last second, she changed her words to something else: "I was just thinking how I don't really know you, yet I'm your Silencer." The tension immediately released as she added, "I want to know you better."

Lucien held a flattered smirk, but how his eyes flickered away to the ground already told her the answer. "Well, then," she gave a false chuckle, "Maybe another time, sir? Maybe when I haven't showed up unannounced and asleep in your bed."

Lucien returned the chuckle with a softer, much more charming tone of his own, "I'm sure Bellamont would enjoy your company better."

She sat up to stretch her arms, her bones and muscles feeling refreshed from the nap. She handed him the pewter bowl, "Saved you some slices. I know how fond you are of apples, sir."

She didn't bother questioning if he would respond in thanking her. If there was anything she _did_ learn in her time in the Brotherhood, it was that people showed their gratitude by either ceaselessly praising on a contract well done or by not saying anything. She made her way to the old ladder that lead to a quick exit, grabbing hold of the rope and looking over her shoulder, "Sir, you never told me where Bellamont was."

"You'll find him not too far from your next dead drop. I've heard you have a bit of history with Skingrad," he mentioned to her. His tone made her assume he knew more than he let on.

"Skingrad," she repeated, letting out a long sigh, "Right. Thank you, sir."

Carciniea didn't hesitate any more to climb out of Lucien's chambers. She almost considered not going to Skingrad, being a place that held bad reputation with her. But the way he told her- It sounded as if he knew of her past. She wouldn't doubt it either, seeing as it was the city of Skingrad that brought them together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That moment where you can't stop imagining your OC as a Hobbit because of how cute they are.


End file.
